


TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi

by SwirlsOfBlueJay



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Big Bang Challenge, Dark, M/M, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:40:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwirlsOfBlueJay/pseuds/SwirlsOfBlueJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an AU story show-casing Stefan and Klaus’s relationship through the last ninety-four years; exploring its dysfunction, darkness, and the obstacles and issues they face. Running parallel to this is Katherine’s present day story, wherein she is held captive and tortured by Klaus. The majority of this was written before I saw (or even knew about) the events in 3.03, so it doesn't follow that episodes canon. This was written for TVD BigBang. Many thanks to Ellensmithee for her awesome betaing, and to mylifewithin for her spectacular artwork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

_  
**TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi**   
_   


Chapter One

It was nineteen seventeen. His loyal grape-vine had informed him of a massacre in Monterey at the hands of a young vampire who was heading in Klaus’s direction, and he was in the mood to amuse himself with this creature; yet another vampire who believed himself so powerful that his actions were inconsequential. Klaus always enjoyed putting baby vampires in their place.

But this creature has none of the expected arrogance, or any of the expected fear. As he notices Klaus’ presence, he merely straightens with a small, polite--and surprisingly sincere--smile.

“Hello, would you like some?” the boy offers genuinely, as though they were two friends who just happened to stumble upon each other on their travels.

“Thank you, but no,” Klaus replies.

  
The boy shrugs, returning to his meal. Klaus watches as the boy kills, vicious but with the humans fully compelled, gore-ridden but not messy. The fledgling vampire is enough of a puzzle to have fun with for a few weeks, Klaus supposes.

“Care to join me for a nightcap?” Klaus asks, gesturing towards the Chevrolet.

The vampire boy gives it a mildly appreciative glance but doesn’t gush, and immediately earns a point for that. The boy just nods and follows.

***

  
Present Day

Klaus catches her just outside of Cincinnati; he grips her wrist so tightly she thinks it will leave a bruise--despite the impossibility. She struggles to keep up as he flies across town; her arm feels like it might break apart from its socket if she doesn’t speed up. They come to a halt in front of a black Mustang against which Stefan is leaning. Katherine watches, intrigued, as Stefan stands up straight and bows slightly, opening the back door with all the flourish of a professional valet and none of the resentment of a captive. She gets in without a fuss.

  
Katherine is a master of shadows, a true creature of the night, slipping in and out of lives without her presence ever being known. She has had to be, with Klaus hunting her all these centuries. She has watched Stefan on many occasions and can read his feelings on his face, even when he’s trying to hide them. As Stefan drives, she ponders the state he is in (which keeps her from dwelling on her own state). His small smile is real, and his face is free of any hidden resignation as Klaus wordlessly gestures seemingly random directions. She’s seen Stefan change into a ripper instantaneously, so one possibility is that he has already fallen so far that he doesn’t care--but this is unlikely, usually an instant change into a ripper only happens when Stefan changes of his own volition. She’s seen many people (Damon included) try to pull Stefan back into normal vampire habits, and the result is mostly Stefan spending several days grumpy and sullen before any progress is made. But it would be remiss to underestimate Klaus’ ability to assuage Stefan’s stubbornness.

  
There’s also the possibility that Stefan has been compelled. She doesn’t like that idea, it would mean he has no secret vervain supply to share (Klaus has already disposed of hers). It would also mean he will be markedly harder to manipulate to her ends and also much less fun. The possessive part of her is repulsed and incensed by Stefan having his will taken away by anyone other than her. Stefan is hers, he always will be; he just doesn’t know it yet.

  
Her hunger distracts her from her thoughts when Klaus opens up a blood bag for himself and then tosses one to Stefan; who drinks slowly but without hesitation. Katherine says nothing; if Klaus knows how hungry she is, he will make her wait even longer.

  
Hours pass, and her gaze stays fixated on the growing pile of empty blood-bags. Surreptitiously she moves to pick up one that isn’t quite empty. Klaus’ hand strikes out like a crocodile’s jaw and snaps her wrist in two. It’s in the moments that her wrist is healing that she decides to execute her haphazard escape sooner than later. With every minute she grows weaker from not feeding and in a few hours the vervain will have left her system and she won’t have any more chances.

  
She waits until the Mustang is soaring before breaking the door open. Spinning away from the car at full speed, her muscles protest wildly and bloodlust burns her insides like they’re drenched in gasoline. Despite this, she runs faster than ever before--because she has must. Rapidly Katherine changes direction to hide her trail, and then she runs and swiftly changes direction again, tearing past buildings and forests. There’s a crash. Her body stops. Winded, she hits the ground--falling away from an unyielding, steel-like statue. She blinks, the statue picks her up, and she realises it’s Klaus. Immediately Katherine moves to blur away again but Klaus’s grip is too strong. His hold doesn’t loosen a bit as they dart through the air, and it remains strong when they eventually land in the middle of a road. Three seconds later the Mustang rolls to a stop next to them.

  
This time Klaus slides in the back with her, sliding his arm around her waist to hold her in place. Her thoughts return to Stefan, who could’ve easily driven off somewhere else- if he wasn’t stupidly worrying about other people and consequences. At the moment, though, she’s more inclined to believe he’s been compelled. Klaus points out the destination they’re approaching--a small bright-white diner--Katherine puts away her thoughts for later, to focus on their surroundings and any possible escape routes. They walk into the diner holding hands; Klaus’ dimples are showing.

  
Yellow sunlight lights up the eatery, and, with its shiny surfaces and overly cheery waitresses, the place looks like a light-hearted death comedy version of heaven--it is ridiculous. A waitress approaches them with a lemonade pitcher, brimming with ice and lemon slices and lemonade that is a gorgeous shade of red. Starving, Katherine holds back from baring her fangs. The waitress pours the blood into a glass with two straws; one for Stefan and one for her. Klaus gives Stefan the task of deciding how much each of them gets.

  
She relaxes in her seat; the game is designed to play with them both, but is the first of many, and she has no intention of rising to the bait; after all she’s pretty sure she will have her fill whatever Stefan decides. She knows Stefan will still be reluctant to drink too much, trying to maintain whatever tenuous control he is hiding from Klaus. She can almost hear him thinking out the balance; not really wanting either of them to have much blood. Katherine can’t help but be proud when Stefan puts on a grin, as though he was pleased at this opportunity to mess with her. Maybe he is a little pleased, but she knows him, and he has to be worrying about his control, drinking all this blood. She might feel a little fear, but even if he chose to risk taking more just to deny her, she highly doubts he would drink the whole pitcher, there would be plenty left.

  
Stefan drinks deeply, his gaze affixed on her face smugly. He’s clearly looking to milk this modicum of power. After about a third of the glass is gone, Stefan pushes it over to her. Katherine smirks before closing her dry lips around the straw--she refuses to look desperate. She takes a sip and her body relaxes immediately as the first few deliciously fresh droplets slide warmly down her throat, pooling satisfyingly inside her. Katherine takes a second sip, wondering whether the kitchen is lined with living blood donors; it has been at least a day since she’s had any blood and at least four since she had anything this fresh (a hazard of staying under the radar). Before she can take a third sip Stefan speaks.

  
“Stop,” Stefan says in a note far too cheery for his typical register.

“What?” She asks impatiently.

“That’s enough,” he states firmly.

Katherine gives him an incredulous look and carries on drinking.

“Do as he says,” Klaus says softly, as though it’s a gentle request and not a point-blank order.

Katherine considers continuing to drink but knows it will only reduce the likelihood of getting blood later. She passes back the glass reluctantly. After a taste her starving body is now screaming at her for more. Her bloodlust is well hidden but cracks in her veneer must be showing for both Klaus and Stefan are smirking at her.

  
Stefan picks up the pitcher, trickling blood into the glass before drinking it at an annoyingly snail-like pace, blood floats up the straw and drips back down before reaching his lips. Air bubbles bob slowly at straw’s tail. He drinks half the glass and then just pauses, staring at her intently for a minute and only then passing it over to her. Katherine throws her straw aside and downs the glass and sends a challenging look Stefan’s way as she slams it down on the table. The sheer vindictive nature of ripper Stefan appearing so soon is unexpected, but as always she adjusts quickly. She tempers her anger into threatening smiles and coyly whispers;

  
“Enjoy this while you can; you’ll pay later.”

  
He ignores her completely, and she briefly wonders whether the Stefan who was so mindful of her retributions has been compelled away or just over-shadowed by Klaus’ possible retributions. The next time the glass is filled she suspects he’s about to drink the entire thing and thus ignores the glass, letting her mind drift to how she thought Stefan had been compelled. It didn’t seem like he had been mind-controlled into blind obedience; perhaps he’s been compelled to be a ripper or Klaus has just nudged a bit here and there. Stefan ends up leaving her some dregs at the bottom and she takes them with little thought. Her hunger isn’t as biting anymore, her mind is much clearer, and she begins rethinking escape plans.

  
Klaus holds her tightly until the vervain is out of her system and her plans fall to grave-dirt.

  
Katherine looks around as they enter the apartment they’ve apparently been staying in. It’s opulent but also minimalist. They’re barely inside the door before Klaus is leading Stefan into one of the bedrooms. This is another idea she doesn’t like, for much the same reason; Stefan is hers. She would rather it be Stefan than her, but she would prefer Klaus not touch either of them. Stefan only smiles widely following Klaus; definitely compelled she thinks.

  
***

  
1917

Stefan has a feeling that this vampire was old; definitely older than Alexia, possibly even older than even Katherine had been. He let himself be escorted, reserving any defiance or vitriolic insight for later.  
He is taken to a large mansion (it was mostly bare, though the few furnishings present were lavish) and immediately led to the bed chambers. Sensing that this vampire appreciates his silence, Stefan keeps that way.

  
***

  
Klaus appreciates Stefan’s quietness, but he’s curious as to whether it is because he knows exactly who Klaus is; after all, to say his reputation precedes him would be somewhat of an understatement. He leans away, still collaring Stefan’s neck with his hand.

“I’m Klaus by the way.”

Stefan raises his eyebrows as new recognition dawns.

“As in...?” Stefan asks, trailing off.

“Yes, as in the king of vampires.”

“Oh, okay,” Stefan replies in a measured tone, and Klaus can almost see him filing it away for later.  
Within a second Stefan’s previous expression of neutral enthusiasm has returned. And Klaus thinks he should be more bothered by that than he is, but he’s too busy with Stefan’s body to be annoyed over Stefan’s mind.

  
***

  
He makes no move to jockey for position as Klaus moves on top of him, secure enough within himself to play the submissive role without becoming submissive. Every touch from Klaus is distinct, different. Sometimes Klaus is rougher than the most violent of Stefan’s previous lovers, and Stefan fights the instinct to flinch away, arching closer instead. And other times Klaus acts as though Stefan is no older than he looks, like a virginal child who needs to be treated delicately lest he fall apart.

  
“You may go,” Klaus tells him once he is finished.

“Bored with me already?” Stefan asks, getting up to find his clothes that currently patchwork the room.

“I can find you whenever I want,” Klaus says with a feral grin. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day.” It sounds like a threat.

Stefan’s brow creases as he considers Klaus for a moment. Then he determinedly slides back into the bed. Klaus’s eyes darken in response, and he lets out a wolfish chuckle.

“Sleep now; tomorrow I’ll decide whether you’re enough of a fascination to counter your idiocy.”

He doesn’t answer; he lets Klaus have at least the illusion of the last word, after all Stefan has gotten his own way.

***

2011

Katherine wakes with droopy eyelids and skin stretched taught over her bones; she knows the grey hue is there before she sees it and tells herself the pain is irrelevant. Getting blood is what’s relevant. She hasn’t had any since the diner, six days ago. The walk into the living room is done tentatively, placing weakened heels and toes deliberately, to avoid a stumble.

“Maybe we should let her have something to drink,” Stefan says in a tone filled with pity.

“Go play your good cop act with someone else, I don’t need it,” she snaps at him.

“You’ll spoil her, pet,” Klaus replies to Stefan.

***

  
1917

Klaus wakes to the sounds of food preparations and finds Stefan taking liberties with his kitchen equipment and staff.

“Where’s Chef?” he asks.

“I banished her, I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“I feel I should make my intentions clear; I do not intend to take a wife,” Klaus deadpans.

“Most amusing,” Stefan replies plainly, lips quirking in a closeted smile.

“The main ingredient seems to be missing,” Klaus says, noticing the lack of humans.

“I sent her away; I didn’t want you to fill up before we go out hunting.”

“I’m contemplating why I shouldn’t kill you.”

“Don’t be that way, you know the hunt is always better with hunger roaring in your ears, and I figured I should plan something good or else you might become bored with your childish quickness.”

“Don’t insult me, Stefan.” Klaus’s face is blank, and the expression added to the morning curls on his head, gives him the likeness of a Grecian masterpiece. The ‘I’ve killed for less’ is implied, and Stefan decides he will stay with Klaus; the danger only enhances the pleasure.

  
***

  
The park is filled with people, every one of them compelled, all dancing a waltz.

“This is not to my tastes,” Klaus scoffs derisively.

“I’m sure some of them will be,” Stefan says, snapping his fingers.

The humans all spring into frenzied animation; some running away fearfully; some running towards them; and some running in chaotic circles and attacking each other. Klaus’s unimpressed for only a moment before he sees the patterns forming, a beautifully orchestrated bloody circus. A macabre, red-stained dance.

A myriad of blood-scents colour their surroundings like a symphony. The water fountain abruptly stops flowing, and begins again--this time spouting bright crimson.

“This is ... satisfactory,” he admits, plucking up a petite girl dancing near him.

Stefan’s no longer listening, already enjoying his own feast. It strikes Klaus again--but deeper this time--the appearance of Stefan amidst his prey, in his element. It’s almost ethereal.

Klaus slams Stefan down against the grass, ripping off his trousers without thought. Stefan’s brows furrow in surprise, before his eyes slake with lustfulness. Klaus moves wildly, uncontrolled; never one to restrain himself.

They feed on every compelled person when they’re done. A few have trickled further afield, and they rustle the trees as they track--until fear saturates the air.

“Not yet willing to admit to having a good time?” Stefan challenges, as they lie together once more. Klaus chuckles.

“You’ll be entertainment enough for a month or two.”

  
***

  
Stefan mentions that he enjoys looking out over whichever new place he’s in from up high. So that afternoon Klaus takes him to a hotel where he knows there’s a spectacular view. They sit on the parapet, legs dangling towards the sixty foot plummet beneath them.

It amuses Klaus that Stefan is still able to remember clearly when sitting in this position would’ve been dangerous.

“So very young,” he chortles, when a pigeon flies over them and Stefan flinches away from the edge.

“I’m old for a human. Besides, isn’t everyone young compared to you?”

“That statement itself reveals how young you are; if you’d remained human, you might still be alive.  
You’re young compared to most vampires.”

“I suppose. I’ve done a lot with the years I’ve had, though.”

“I heard you were a fireman at one point; if there was ever a stupid job for a vampire...”

Stefan shrugs.

“It was something different.”

“And reckless,” Klaus smirks.

“And reckless.” Stefan mirrors the smirk. “Well, what’ve you been doing with your eternity?”

“Accumulating power; manipulating and moulding the world to my preferences, having fun.”

“Of course; it’s all about the fun. You’re not doing this for the notoriety.”

Klaus’ expression shows hints of impressed, before sliding into amused indulgence.

“I’ve a meeting you should come to.”

  
***

  
Klaus walks into the meeting hall with Stefan. Every pair of eyes looks a moment longer than necessary.  
It wasn’t unusual for Klaus to bring his lovers to sit beside him at the table of his inner circle; after all he enjoys flaunting his toys. But it was unusual for him to grant someone this position after only a day. No one dared say anything; he was smart enough not to surround himself with yes men, but they were smart enough to keep certain thoughts to themselves until appropriate times.

  
***

  
Stefan looks around the large hall as Klaus begins the meeting, it’s not lavish like the other rooms, surfaces cold and hard, purposeful. The chairs also lack the comfortable cushioning of the rest of the mansion. There are only four others present: the inner circle.

  
“Alexander, how goes the Bowman mission?” Klaus demands to know.

Stefan looks towards Alexander; the vampire has long blonde hair, and a gaunt look to his face. He knows this is Klaus’s right-hand man, and makes a point of remembering him.

“Everything is in place; the ambush will happen the day after tomorrow,” Alexander replies, with an English accent similar to Klaus’s.

“Good. Cora, the Roland mission?”

“The plan is to have our people posing as concierges and maids, and ... we’ll go from there,” Cora says, trailing off; clearly reluctant to say more in front of someone new.

Klaus shoots her a severe look, but says nothing. She primps nervously at her neat auburn bun for a few seconds before glancing away.

Stefan listens as Klaus has longer conversations with Ida and Herman, and gives them far more explicit orders. Ida’s a witch who looks like she’s in her mid twenties with silky black straight hair falling to her waist, and he’s heard Herman is a werewolf, but he’s still partially convinced someone is pulling his leg. After Klaus finishes giving orders, there’s some talk of the people their underlings before the meeting comes to an end.

  
***

  
“Why are you going after the Bowman witches?” Stefan asks, later that evening.

“You’ve heard of them then, that’s good. You’ll need to learn quickly if you’re to be a productive member of my circle.”

“I never said I wanted to have anything to do with your circle.”

“Most would be honoured to have such a position. I want you to do this; I can’t be sure of your loyalty unless I test it.”

“Must be tiring, testing everyone near you. I have no intention of allying with a cause I know nothing about.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Klaus says, voice hard and possessive.

“You seem to forget that I’m not scared of you.”

Klaus’ face snaps towards him, eyes flashing darkly, mouth an unyielding line. He grabs Stefan, and holds him up against the wall, fingers pressing determinedly restrained against his windpipe; a honed balance between inflicting pain and not inducing injury.

“Don’t make the mistake of fancying yourself special; many haven’t feared me in the beginning, but they all fear me by the end.”

“When you growl like that, I can see it,” Stefan says softly.

Klaus rolls his eyes, and fingers squeeze asking the question without the necessity of words.

“Your humanity,” Stefan replies, smirking.

  
 [Chapter Two](http://swirlsofblue.livejournal.com/5549.html#cutid1)

\------

  



	2. Chapter One

_  
**TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi**   
_   


Chapter Two

In the next few weeks, Stefan is mostly kept by Klaus’s side. Stefan doesn’t mind, it gives him all the more opportunity to coax his way in--to be seen as more than an amusement. He basks in these early days, when it’s all sex and killing and sex.

He straddles Klaus, their hands roam possessively over each other, mouths found hotly; their teeth clash-clack-crash together as they move towards release. Then Klaus bites sharply into his shoulder, and he’s lost in a whirl of soaring pleasure and pain, mixing together deliciously. Klaus lays soft kisses along his collarbone, staining Stefan with lip-prints of his own blood.

“Go ahead,” Klaus says seductively, tilting his own head for access.

Stefan hesitates, but Klaus pushes, urging him closer. Stefan lets his canines descend, pressing them teasingly against Klaus’s neck before allowing them to slide in. The taste is euphoric, and the next thing he knows--he’s coming.

Afterwards, Stefan lazily coils his arm around Klaus. Klaus gives a token grunt of protest (which has dwindled from the uproarious rejections of ‘cuddling’ at the very beginning) before ignoring him.

  
***

  
Stefan hasn’t been to a meeting since that original one, after which he expressed that he held no interest in Klaus’s schemes. They’d had the beginnings of arguments over it in the last few weeks, but Klaus had bored of them quickly and kept shutting down the conversation, so nothing much was ever said. The older vampire has apparently decided it is time for Stefan to attend another one.

Stefan sits on the other end of the table from Klaus this time, distancing himself from the subject matter.

“The Tobias and Willow covens are still proving to be a strong front, but the Sioux coven is losing interest in the fight,” Alexander reports.

“We’ll just have to reignite their interest somehow then,” Klaus says, giving his circle a pointed stare.

“I’ll do it,” the witch called Ida says and receives an affirmative nod.

Despite the depth of curiosity Stefan has, he knows better than to ask why Klaus is involved with these witches’ affairs, and just continues to listen intently. His discomfort is probably not as well hidden as he thinks, because at the first opportunity Cora takes issue with him.

“Why is this baby vampire even here?” she asks, clearly fed up of keeping quiet about it, Stefan imagines more vitriolic words coiled serpent-like on her tongue, waiting to strike. Klaus has her backed against a wall before she can even consider voicing them.

“Do not think that, just because you are within my inner circle, you are above me ripping your head off,” Klaus growls.

“Yes sir,” Cora whimpers timidly.

“Maybe we should return to the issue of the Riverside warlocks; they’ve grown more powerful,” Alexander interrupts, defusing the situation with a distraction that’s obvious but efficient.

“Yes, they will need to be dealt with, we must lessen their strength but with subtlety,” Klaus says, retaking his seat with a sour expression on his face that winds tension through air and bones.

“Yes, no innocent looking killings; those are always suspicious,” Alexander remarks.

Klaus grins at Alexander, and the tension in the room returns to normal.

The meeting continues in its obliquely vague fashion, and Stefan begins to think this isn’t just behaviour for his benefit but is customary in case of any spies. Stefan attempts to fill in the redacted sentences silently. The entire hour-long conversation revolves around covens and missions involving said covens.

“Ida; you will give me an outline of your plan by seven tomorrow evening,” Klaus says, as he draws the meeting to a close.

  
***

  
Stefan stands in the corner of the grand hall, accompanied by another hundred or so of Klaus’s vampire minions; milling about the edges. In addition, two lines of a dozen vampires stand facing each other, waiting for Klaus’s scrutiny of their recently failed mission.

Klaus walks with slow deliberate movements down the lines of his people; giving each one he passes a glower that has most cowering. He halts in front of a tall, weedy-looking vampire and turns to face him; glare intensified. Stefan can tell the vampire is putting great effort into not quaking.

“Why so scared?” Klaus asks, hard expression morphing into an eerie smile.

“I...I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“The mission’s failure.”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Klaus says, stepping closer, until they’re only inches apart.

His hand thrusts into the vampire’s stomach, and pulls out a kidney. The vampire falls to his knees, curling into himself, mouth a wide circle sounding an almost silent, speechless whine. Another thrust, his liver. Klaus pulls him up, hanging him from his shoulder, and then takes his spleen, his stomach, and then the liver freshly healed.

The vampire is dropped to the floor. Klaus walks around him, with a predatory gleam, before thrusting his hand through the vampire’s back and pulling out a lung from between his ribs. It continues like that for several minutes; Stefan can’t look away.

When Klaus lets the vampire go, he collapses into a pool of blood-slicked organs.

“Same time tomorrow,” Klaus says, striding out of the hall.

  
***

  
Klaus has Stefan up against the wall yet again; Stefan still refuses to capitulate to how dangerous he is and teaching him otherwise is most enjoyable. He carves deeper this time. He wants to claw into the boy’s bones and force a visceral reaction, longs to stain this young vampire’s frustrating neutrality with torment and blood.

Of course he wants to reshape Stefan; sear him, bleed him, tear him apart--he always likes to mould the creatures that amuse him. Usually he wanted to make them beg and whimper and scream, sometimes he wanted them to like him and compelled them without a care when he didn’t wish to woo. With Stefan he wants something else entirely.

He carves casually upon Stefan’s torso, criss-cross patterns fading to reddish brown in the afternoon light before disappearing.

“Hmm, I see now, you’re very naughty,” Stefan murmurs huskily.

“You’re a freak,” Klaus replies, thrusting the knife deeper, scorching tally marks across his ribs.

Stefan grunts, waiting for some semblance of healing to begin before replying,

“You could do far worse if you really wanted to, it’s almost like you’re not trying- I wonder why that is.”

“You’re right I haven’t given you a fair demonstration,” Klaus says, breaking off the mahogany banister and shoving it through Stefan with unusual amounts of fury before flashing away.

  
***

  
Klaus and Stefan are strolling towards the circus; the workplace of one of Klaus’s allies. Their usual casual banter lapses into silence for a few minutes before Klaus speaks.

“When you kill, you’re more in control than you let anyone believe, than you let even yourself believe.”

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re ashamed. You shouldn’t be ashamed of any part of yourself.”

“We can’t all be like you,” Stefan says, not bothering to pointlessly deny Klaus’ assertion.

“I’m not saying you should be like me; I’m saying you should accept yourself for who you are.”

“Maybe I like being someone who doesn’t accept myself the way I am, who strives for better.”

“And you think it’s impossible to do both?”

“I think that an alcoholic can’t ever simultaneously drink and not be an alcoholic.”

“Ah, but moderation is for those who can be killed by their excesses.”

“Why do you even care about my self-acceptance?”

“Because I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve seen too many people tear themselves apart.”

“You care, that’s adorable,” Stefan mocks, grinning.

“You wish,” Klaus says, as they walk into the small stadium.

“Oh, Alexander told me to remind you--no more standing in the freak show and scaring off the customers,” Stefan jibes.

  
***

  
As Stefan’s first month with Klaus drips into his second, he’s allowed more time on his own. He spends his spare time exploring the mansion and surrounding grounds and striking up conversation with the various people working there (including a few conversations with Alexander).

One day, finding his way through the vast library, he decides to seek out more information on the witch covens mentioned in the two meetings he was permitted to attend. It takes some digging, but eventually Stefan comes across some century-old records. He sits cross-legged at the back of some dusty stacks and reads, finding accountings of battles between covens--fatalities and supplies, formations and plans of attack. Some of the plans have Klaus’s handwriting scribbled into the mix. After scouring the records for hours, he puts them back--mindful of their placing--and decides to take in some fresh air.

“May I sit?” Alexander asks Stefan, as he sits on one of many ornate benches adorning Klaus’s lands.

“Sure,” Stefan replies cheerfully.

“How goes everything?”

“It goes well, how goes everything with you?” Stefan says.

“Ah, there are ancient prophecies to thwart, world changing moves to be made, the usual,” Alexander says with faux sombreness. “Is something troubling you?” His tone is sincere.

“No, nothing at all,”

“Stefan, if you say something that I feel requires Klaus’s attention, I won’t hesitate to tell him. That doesn’t mean I won’t keep almost anything you say in confidence--I’ve been here a long time, trust me when I say there is very little you could say that would be considered as necessary to disclose information.”

“How long have you been here? Stefan says cautiously, hoping to drop the subject.

Alexander’s clearly keen on making a friend of him, but as much as Stefan enjoys their talks, he has no illusion that the man has ulterior motives.

“I’ve been in his inner circle for centuries, and I’ve been his best friend for longer,” Alexander says, allowing the conversation to drift to him.

  
***

  
2011

Klaus holds her down on a bed, dissecting her with wooden instruments and vervain-laden knives. Her stomach lies open; it’s eviscerated again before it can heal. Intestines tickle her side slimily.

Katherine stares blankly at him, her mouth held in a tight line--refusing to even scowl let alone beg or cry. She will always win. Klaus will not break her. Stefan runs fingers down her arm and palm, like he was tapping off a children’s nursery rhyme on her fingers. He sends indulgent smiles her way, she’s torn between being horrified and taking some twisted comfort from him.

She focuses on Stefan. It’s better than focusing on what Klaus is doing to her. It’s better than focusing on the agony and fear and helplessness. She looks into his eyes and as they flicker in the dim light she can almost imagine they hold the innocence they did back in eighteen-sixty-four. His right hand holds her right, and he squeezes gently whenever a pained sound escapes her lips, making hushing sounds to cut the darkness. His left hand brushes away her hair and caresses her forehead and side of her face, she leans in to the cool touch--clearly no coffee today.

“It’s almost over,” Stefan says soothingly, and she barks hysterically with laughter.

When Klaus is done, he gets up and leaves. She feels numb. Doesn’t want to move. Stefan helps clean her up. She clings to him far too desperately for her liking as he moves her into a chair, so he can change the blood-stained sheets. He lays her into the bed like someone precious and it makes her want to cry.

“So much for not needing a good cop,” Stefan says softly with steel in his voice as he presses a kiss onto her forehead.

  
***

  
1917

Stefan has been with Klaus for four months when they--along with the inner circle--take a trip to Europe; it’s partly for business and partly for pleasure, though the business requires them to be covert. They stay in Passchendaele, where The Great War is blazing, so that their body count goes unnoticed.

They’ve been there for a month when Stefan expresses a desire to travel alone for a few days. Klaus gives his permission easily for Stefan to spend a week in Italy. But he insists on Alexander escorting him.

Though Stefan and Alexander have struck up a friendship, Stefan knows trying to convince him to go against Klaus’ orders is foolish at best. On their third day in Rome he does so anyway; Stefan figures he’s better off with Alexander at least knowing he will come back when he does run off. He’s less likely to raise the alarm (and reveal how he allowed Stefan to escape) that way.

“It’s only an afternoon,” Stefan cajoles Alexander, trying to buy himself some time alone.

“If you try to leave...” Alexander says, trailing off poignantly.

“I wouldn’t betray Klaus,” Stefan says seriously, and adds half-jokingly, “and I definitely wouldn’t betray you.”

“Very well,” Alexander finally agrees.

“Are you just saying that so you can follow me and find out what I’ve got to hide?”

“Possibly.”

“Fine,” Stefan says, resolving to ensure Alexander loses his trail.

  
***

  
“Stefan, it’s good to see you, do come in,” Amelia says.

“It’s good to see you too, how’ve you been?”

“Oh, there’s the good and the bad. How’ve you been? How’s that brother of yours?”

  
“I’ve been well. And given your current residence I suspect you’ve seen Damon more recently than I have.”

“It’s win-win; I get to stay in this lovely villa, and he gets to have it protected from stray vampires entering.”  
Stefan chuckles; “You know the main reason he does that is so I can’t get into his places and annoy him.”

“Ah, well, you’re siblings you should spend more time together,” she replies with a smirk.

“Would you like some vanilla tea?”

“Your vast tea collection reduced to just vanilla--what caused this travesty,” Stefan mocks light-heartedly.

“The others are still there, just laced with vervain; maybe you would like one of those,” she jibes.

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“So how is my brother, I haven’t seen him in four years.”

“It’s been a year since I saw him, but he was doing well.”

“Still obsessing over his mysterious master plans?”

“As always.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what they are?”

“I cannot betray Damon’s confidence.”

“But you won’t tell him I know there are master plans.”

“Of course not. I would not betray you either.”

“You’ll tell me if he’s getting himself into too much trouble?”

“I would if it would stop harm coming to him, or you.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“You know, he worries about you, too, even if he won’t admit it.”

“I know. It’s all just very complicated.”

“Family always is.”

“True. Speaking of family, would you mind answering some questions I have about other witches?”

“That depends on what you want to know, Stefan.”

“What do you know about covens fighting with other covens?”

“Stefan, we witches still have some secrets to ourselves, and we tell no vampires about them.”

“I wouldn’t ask, except Klaus clearly knows, and I suspect he’s doing a lot more to manipulate the situation than any of the witches realise.”

“That is not possible; no matter what a witch’s stance, even his most loyal ones would not allow him to become that involved in our affairs.”

“He knows about the fighting between the Tobias and Riverside covens, and he also knows the people in Riverside have grown stronger. I also found documentation in his library detailing battles that seems to have come directly from witches themselves, and evidence suggestive of the hand Klaus played in those events.”

A shadow of concern darkens Amelia’s face at Stefan’s revelations.

“It seems, given the situation, that clarifying certain things would be for the best,” Amelia says, sighing deeply. “There has always been a division between witches; between those who have fully embraced our lives as the servants of nature, and those who have more selfish--possibly destructive--inclinations.”

“So that’s why there’s some fighting between these covens?”

“Actually Stefan,” Amelia says taking a significant breath, “it’s a war, which encompasses almost every coven in existence.”

“How come no one knows about this?” Stefan says with surprise.

“We keep our secrets well, and most witches don’t have very active roles in the fight,” Amelia says, a note of finality in her voice.

“So I guess you don’t want to tell me more.”

“Maybe another time, Stefan. It would help if you could find out just what Klaus’s aims are.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Stefan says, thinking about the lines he seems to constantly be crossing.  
“Next order of business,” Amelia says, clearly no longer in the mood for chitchat. “The spell you asked for in your letter, it could have perilous consequences.”

“I understand if it’s asking too much. I’ll just find another way.”

“Don’t misunderstand me, Stefan, you and your brother have been loyal to us Bennett witches for a long time, and I would gladly do this spell for you. But I do not wish you to come to any harm.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve thought about this for a long time, it’s what I want. And I’ve already done much to make sure no one will know you were involved.”

“I assumed that was why you came all the way over here, instead of going to one of my cousins in America.”

“That was the idea.”

“You’re certain then?”

“Yes. As long as you are.”

“Wait here, I’ll get the candles.”

  
***

  
He waits a while before mentioning his new intentions to Klaus, so that it’s less suspicious. Stefan finally begins the conversation a few weeks later, when they’re at a ball; that way he can whisk himself away in dance with a beautiful lady before anything bad (like Klaus realising his true objectives) happens.

“I’ve decided I want to be in the inner circle,” Stefan says, handing Klaus a flute of champagne.  
“Of course, but you’ll have to earn your place like everybody else,” Klaus says sternly, hiding any suspicions he has.

“Of course,” Stefan agrees, wondering what the test will be.

“Business later; now let’s find some of these lovely girls to dance with,” Klaus says, his gaze deliberately flicking between predatory and charismatic.

  
***

  
The rest of the inner circle approach him as soon as they find out he’s a prospective member.

“Baby vampire,” Cora spits, “do you think I don’t know you’ve got a hidden agenda.”

“Of course he’s got a hidden agenda, he wouldn’t be in Klaus’ inner circle if he wasn’t smart enough to have one,” Alexander says, smiling amicably at Stefan.

“He will not be allowed in unless his worth is proven, and once it is proven he deserves his place,” Ida adds begrudgingly.

They all stay in France for a year, drowning themselves in decadence, and nothing further is said of any tests, although Stefan isn’t foolish enough to think that’s the end of it.

  
***

  
2011

Stefan chops vegetables, making meticulous efficient movements to prepare a dinner they don’t need. Chop. Chop. Chop. She punctuates his rhythm with chopping of her own. Chop. Chop. Chop. Chopping her fingers into celery slices. A stray fingertip sits on the salt shaker. She pauses as the digits grow back again.

“Carry on,” Klaus purrs viciously.

“How about I switch places with Stefan for a bit; I’m a better cook. Besides he’s probably beginning to think he can do whatever he wants,” Katherine says, spinning the knife between her fingers.

“That’s because I can do whatever I want,” Stefan chortles.

“Stefan,” Klaus says in a chastising tone.

Stefan ignores him, and continues chopping the onions.

Katherine has to suppress her surprise when Klaus doesn’t respond to the snub. She peers curiously at the two of them, gears churning in her mind.

***

1918

Stefan stays still in the position he has been splayed. It has become a ritual; the violence and bloodshed, even the conversation was like clockwork. It was always happening when Klaus feels particularly insecure. Klaus doesn’t know Stefan knows it--sometimes Stefan thinks Klaus doesn’t even know it himself.

“Fine, I give up. I’m so very scared of you.” Stefan makes a morose face for a moment before laughing.

Klaus layers bites over his body and watches as blood fades to bruises and finally into unmarred skin.

  
***

Klaus looks over the large room. The wedding reception is a classically styled affair, with good wine, which he and Stefan are enjoying greatly, and hence for the moment they don’t disrupt the event. It’s all the more enticing knowing none of them know what’s coming.

“So happy to see you came!” the compelled bride exclaims pleasantly, glad-handing them.

Stefan chooses that moment to flash behind her and bite into her neck, he looks down at her a moment later, and says in the voice of a polite wedding guest complimenting the dinner,

“Look, there’s blood all over your pretty flowers and pretty dresses.”

“Oh, dear,” she says, still smiling brightly, “I’ll have to get that cleaned up.”

Klaus smiles as people slowly begin to notice and rush towards her. He slides fingers around a bridesmaid’s wrist and twirls her into an embrace; eyes filling with blood as he does so. The place erupts into a pit of shouting and screaming guests, some grabbing makeshift weapons and many running towards the doors. Panic rings out louder as the realisation dawns that all of the exits are blocked.

“So how’s that ridiculous book going?” Klaus asks, ripping into the wedding party’s standard drunk uncle.

“The hero just rescued a slave girl on Mars, can’t put it down,” Stefan replies, delicately handling an overly jewelled lady as he drinks from her.

“Hmm, I won’t be reading it anytime soon,” Klaus comments, sliding hands over his next pick.

“You liked the last book I recommended to you,” Stefan points out, roughly tearing through the shoulder of a tall gangly man.

“You have great taste in books; more the pity that you choose to read all the drivel that’s written as well.”

They continue to banter as they slice through the wedding guests; Stefan begins to slit wrists when he’s full, letting blood trickle idly down fingertips, into crystal wine glasses.

  
***

  
“Do you mind if I sit here?” Stefan asks, not making even a hint of a presumptive move.

The witch, Clara, gives him an indulgent look, as though he is a child; she should really know better.

“Sit, sit, I do like meeting all you new vampires.”

Okay, so she did know better. Stefan sits down with a purposefully nervous smile, and forcibly prevents himself from scanning the shadowy corners for Klaus. He knows Klaus is there, assessing him. “Do that ‘fluffy little bunny who always says the right thing’ act of yours and get her wrapped around your little finger” the ancient vampire had said.

Stefan knows Klaus has other people who could do this; it seems like he has people in every country of the world, but he chose him to see what he could do. And Stefan is determined to do well. He’s just not sure whether that urge is because of his feelings for Klaus, or because he needs to be closer to the circle to get to the bottom of the situation. He hasn’t even been told the reason that he’s gaining her confidence; apparently that’s need to know and he’ll be told when he needs to know it.

“I’m guessing you were turned in the sixties, maybe seventies.”

“Sixties,” Stefan confirms, letting his face turn brooding, “I miss those times.”

Clara gives him another indulgent smile, but Stefan can see the gleam in her eye and he intends to capitalise on it.

He takes her to the theatre the next day. He takes her dancing a couple of days after that, and lets her tell him about her family as he listens sympathetically. Then one day Stefan conveniently saves her life (by arrangement of course, but he is pretty sure she doesn’t know that). Getting her to like him is easy; the hard part is getting her to trust him, but by the month’s end he’s certain she does.

  
***

  
“Is there any of that delightful French countess left?”

“Yes milord, just a quarter pint,” the butler answers.

“We’ll finish it off then,” Klaus answers. The butler nods, pouring the blood.

“I just had my fill, wouldn’t want to waste your favourite supping,” Stefan says.

“It seems as though I haven’t seen you drink in days,”

“Then I must be withering away,” Stefan says with a smirk.

“Unless you’re supplementing with something a little different, say racoon?”

“You know,” Stefan says, letting out a self-deprecating huff, “of course you know.”

“Here,” Klaus says, dropping down a glass of stag blood onto the table.

Stefan raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t really care what you do. Why would you think I’d give a damn?”

“My brother always bemoans the day I stop drinking. You remind me of him.”

“Tell me about him,” Klaus asks.

He already knows all about Damon Salvatore, but allows Stefan the pretence that they both know is a lie.

“Damon’s a walking contradiction. He’s crazy, impulsive as hell, but can also formulate plans that last decades. He acts like he’s the worst of villains, but he’ll do anything to look after those he cares about, and he never breaks a promise.”

“Sounds fun,” Klaus comments softly.

“When we were human, we were so close. You remember what the nineteenth century was like, so conformist.”

“Stefan, from what I can tell from history, in a hundred years they will consider the people of now horribly conformist.”

“The thrills of eternity,” Stefan says bitterly. “Anyway, I could never really be myself around father. Damon could though--I always admired him for that--he was six years older than me, and I thought he knew everything important about the world. And I always got to be myself around him.”

  [Chapter Three](http://swirlsofblue.livejournal.com/5646.html#cutid1)

\------


	3. TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi

_**TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi**_  
Chapter Three

“So, what now?” Stefan asks.

“Now everything goes on the same,” Klaus says, relaxed, feet up on the table.

“I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Ok, so everything goes on the same, and I go on the killing rampages alone.”

“Because it’s just that simple.”

“It actually is, too often you youngsters just overcomplicate things.”

“Nothing about this is simple.”

“If you can turn a blind eye to what your brother does, you can turn a blind eye to me.”

“It’s not just that,” Stefan argues, because now isn’t the time to deal with that mountain.

“So what do you usually do when the ‘good guy’ portion of your multiple personalities is in charge?” Klaus quips.

Stefan gives him an annoyed look, and Klaus only adds, “Well?”

Stefan sighs, but answers;

“I usually find something new to do, like a job I haven’t done before.”

“Then do that, we wait and see how things go, and if there’s a problem we’ll deal with it then; or not- whatever works,” Klaus says.

Stefan can see the twitch in his casual posture, and isn’t dumb enough to wait for Klaus to grow angry.

“Fine,” Stefan agrees reluctantly, mind already busy whirling around worst case scenarios.

  
***  
Stefan sits confidently at the prosecutor’s table; they’re still waiting for the defence’s counsel to arrive.

That’s when Klaus walks in, and towards the defence table.

“What’re you doing here?” Stefan asks indignantly.

“Oh, you know, finding something new to do,” Klaus says, with eyes twinkling.  
Stefan sighs.

“Let’s keep it a fair fight; no compelling.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Klaus agrees faux seriously.

Five minutes later, Klaus looks curiously at the witness; who isn’t saying what he wants her to.

“Yeah, I already gave them vervain,” Stefan says--too quietly for the humans to hear--with a smirk.

“Touché.”

  
***

  
“Why are you so intent on making everyone think you’re so innocent?”

“Why are you so intent on making everyone think you’re so evil?”

“It’s a slight exaggeration; just good strategic sense, keeps the enemy fearful.”

“Maybe mine is a slight exaggeration, too.”

“It’s not.”

“It’s reflective of who I would like to be. If I pretend to care like the person I would like to be, if I act like that person who cares would act, if everyone thinks I’m that person who cares; doesn’t that for any meaningful purpose make me that person?”

“God, you’re so young.”

Stefan shrugs; “Besides, it’s a useful subterfuge, and it’s fun.”

“I suppose making those idiots think you’re harmless can be amusing,” Klaus concedes.

  
***

  
Klaus sighs angrily. All of his lovers had an element of fear for him; Stefan was stubbornly staying foolishly different, even after years.

“You say you want to make me afraid, but I get the feeling you’re not really trying.”

“Trust me, I’m just getting started. We’ve got all of eternity, wouldn’t want to run out of games.”

“Hmm, no.”

“No? You really are an idiot.”

“Why are you so determined to push me away?”

“I’m just particular about keeping my toys well behaved,” Klaus smirks.

  
***

  
Stefan enters the west hall and finds Klaus in an embrace with a twenty-something blonde woman.

“Klaus!” Stefan says loudly to alert Klaus--unnecessarily, he knows--to his presence.

“Something wrong?” Klaus sings, tearing off the girl’s tattered nylons.

Stefan gives a resigned sigh.

“Why are you so determined to push me away? I’m not giving you up.”

“You sound like a parrot.”

“Maybe if you answer the question I’ll stop.”

“I figure you’re not going to leave, no matter what I do, because you’re a sap--so I’m free to do whatever I wish to.”

“Very well, perhaps I’ll join you,” Stefan says, stepping towards them.

“By all means,” Klaus responds with a gesture to carry on and a smirk.

Stefan huffed and walked out of the room.

  
***

  
1920

It’s a Thursday night in June, and Klaus is looking at Stefan curiously. They’ve just had sex and, instead of curling around Klaus like a cloying idiot, Stefan is just sitting there. Klaus is about to ask when Stefan opens his mouth to speak; his lips flap pointlessly for a moment before his face relaxes to normal, and words slip out.

“I love you,” Stefan throws out softly, his face looks placid as though he has only mentioned what he had for lunch. Klaus can still see his fingers’ tiny motion as though lost.

“Love is weakness,” Klaus replies dismissively. Stefan turns not deflated, but impassioned.

“Weakness is the point; every strong man needs to be brave enough to sometimes be weak; to let someone share their burden.”

“We’re not men, we’re vampires.”

“Then why am I still here?”

“I’ve never been one to deny myself.”

That is apparently enough of an answer for Stefan, who, smiling, burrows under the covers for sleep.

  
***

  
An enemy--the Berryland coven--comprising seven witches and five warlocks, has been captured. Klaus’s underlings escort the coven members--their wrists bound with manacles specially built to prevent power usage--towards the prison cells.

Klaus is gazing out of the window at these happenings on the ground below.

“What’re you going to do with them?” Stefan asks.

“Have them killed.”

“Does it have to be all of them?”

“It’s never wise to leave people to come back for revenge. And leaving no survivors sends a certain message.”

“True, but diverting from your usual course and leaving some alive also sends a message. That maybe it’s worth changing their loyalties, for survival. And that message will get to more people, much faster, with people alive to spread it.”

“I’ve been around many more centuries than you, Stefan; I know all of the stratagems you know and more. There are other methods that are just as effective; but I choose mine because they suit my whims.”  
“If other methods are just as effective, maybe it’s time for a change of whims; it would be awful to be labelled predictable,” Stefan says.

“Do you always manipulate so obviously?”

“Sometimes.”

“Fine, I’ll only have six of them killed,” Klaus states dryly.

“Or three?”

“Don’t push it,” Klaus says, a menacing current underlining his tone.

“Six is a good number,” Stefan says agreeably.

  
***

  
“Everyone fears me.”

“Is that the same everyone who thinks Elijah is your right hand?”

“You’re saying their information is out of date and that I’ve become a pussy cat,” Klaus deadpans.

“Watch out Klaus, your heart is showing.”

  
***

  
There are two covens on the verge of an epiphany, about to find out exactly what Klaus is up to; all they have to do is slot together the pieces of knowledge each coven has. Then there would be a small, but not insubstantial, witch army coming after Klaus. It is Stefan’s job to prevent it from happening. Stefan’s half-inclined to believe Klaus has set up the potential for his own downfall just to see how Stefan will react.

  
Stefan knows Clara--the witch Klaus had ordered him to befriend--belongs to one of the covens. It doesn’t take a genius to realise that Klaus wants him to turn her against the other coven, and to turn her coven against the other coven in turn. He wants Stefan to start a war. Klaus has started many wars between witches. But this is different, it will be by Stefan’s doing alone; the hundreds, possibly thousands, of resulting deaths will be on Stefan’s hands.

  
The deaths will happen anyway. If Stefan chooses not to start the war, Klaus has other people in place who will. People will die and Klaus will be saved regardless; that’s not really what this is about. This is about whether Stefan is willing to drown in his own darkness for Klaus.

  
This is the moment when Stefan has to make his choice. He’s either with Klaus or against him.  
There’s really only one choice he could ever make because he’s not strong enough to walk away. Stefan sits beside Clara, and spins a yarn, using all the right words. War is declared by the end of the week.

  
***

  
Stefan’s now a trusted member of the inner circle. Klaus offers to tell him everything. It’s not too long before Stefan turns away; he doesn’t want to know anymore. He has already seen too many dark corners to think knowing, and trying to fix things, would be anything but an exercise in futility.

  
***

  
Klaus runs his index fingernail along Stefan’s jaw and down his neck, momentarily drawing a drop of blood as he speaks;

“Tell anyone about this, and I’ll slice you through, again and again, until you’re begging for death,” Klaus lilts softly.

“I’ll take it to my grave,” Stefan replies seriously.

“I had four brothers and two sisters, often my father would travel--to make trades, he sometimes took two or three of my siblings with him, and I would sit waiting for my turn, but it never came. My father never told me he hated me; I might’ve felt better if he’d had, then I would know it wasn’t just in my head, then I could reply. I could argue or fight,” Klaus says, pausing with a faraway frown on his face.

“Fathers can be bastards,” Stefan says softly, winding his arms around Klaus, motioning for him to continue.

“Father always manipulated situations with my siblings, convinced them I had done them some terrible wrong, leaving me isolated from them as well. I felt like they had all betrayed me, taking his side over mine. I realised then that I had to become hardened to it all; and I did so stalwartly. When Elijah came to my side, I thought the others would follow but they didn’t. And then Elijah betrayed me also; that hurt the most. That was when I vowed to have my revenge on them all,” Klaus finishes. He gives Stefan a measuring look, seeking out any hint of judgement.

  
Stefan leaves his expression open for Klaus, deliberately meeting his eyes, showing what he knows Klaus needs to see there. This is the part Stefan has always been good at. After a minute or two, Klaus seems satisfied, he relaxes, shoulders dropping. A weight seems to lift off him, and he looks different from how Stefan has ever seen him. Stefan understands that nothing more will be said tonight, he stays quiet, gently caressing Klaus’s short locks.

For once Klaus allows himself to fall asleep before Stefan.

  
***

  
The next morning, Stefan wakes to Klaus running his hand through Stefan’s hair. Klaus’s smile appears to be glowing, somehow rejuvenated from last night’s ‘confession.’ Stefan returns the smile, cupping Klaus’s face in his hands as they have a surprisingly soft kiss.

It’s a moment. Stefan knows maybe it should be left at that, but Klaus is rarely this relaxed and open, and Stefan needs to say some things just so they’ve been said aloud. Besides Klaus is never one to want handling with kid gloves.

“I think I know why you want me to be afraid of you so badly.”

“It’s so you’ll do as you’re told, as is befitting of one of my people.”

“You want me to be too scared to run off, so that you can hold onto me.”

“That’s what the security is for, so my toys can’t scurry away.”

“Yeah, but you want it to be my choice.”

“That would imply that I like you,” Klaus laughs. Stefan shoves his arm.

“Just so you know, I don’t plan on leaving.”

“Good to know, the staff have been complaining about all the bodies they have to bury.”

“But that’s not the only reason you want me to be afraid of you.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You want me to hate you so I’ll try to leave.”

“Lovely opposing reasons, I’m twisted that way,” Klaus says with an indulgent lilt.

Stefan chuckles before bringing his patent furrowed brow to the fore.

“I’m not leaving you,” he says with soft determination.

“I know,” Klaus replies, with an almost vulnerable expression that’s gone before it fully appears.

  
***

  
“Where are you going?” Alexander asks, entering Klaus’s chambers.

“Hunting,” Stefan replies, pulling on his left boot.

“I’ll join you.”

“Really? You’re in the mood for some rabbit?” Stefan says sarcastically.

“We haven’t talked in a while.”

  
Stefan waits until they’re at the edge of the woods before asking;

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“What makes you think there needs to be a reason?”

“You came and found me, to talk,” Stefan says, following a possible deer trail.

“We talk without a reason all the time,” Alexander asserts, following Stefan in turn.

“True, but usually we just stumble upon each other; it’s rare for you to seek me out.”

“Very well. I wish to discuss your relationship with Klaus.”

“Are you going to accuse me of being a spy?” Stefan jokes.

“No, everyone is already aware of that,” Alexander replies, feigning sombreness.

“Oh, that’s good then.”

Alexander, returning to genuine seriousness, says, “I mean to speak of your intentions; I want to make you aware of the dire consequences that will befall you should you hurt Klaus in any way. He may tolerate it, but let me assure you; I will not.”

“Are you seriously warning _me_ , about me hurting _Klaus_?”

“Yes. He’s my friend, Stefan. I have concern for him.”

“Why now, after six years?”

“Klaus rarely cares enough for his conquests for it to be an issue,” Alexander points out.

“I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

“Klaus did not begin this way Stefan, his brutality is hard won by being wronged too young by too many.”

“I understand; you’re protective of him. You know I too care about him, and wouldn’t hurt him if I could avoid it, but I can’t promise it will never happen.”

“There’s something special about you Stefan. All I ask is that you try.”

  
***

  
Stefan barely misses a beat when Klaus heaves him against a wall. What surprises him is when the usual violence doesn’t follow, instead Klaus’s hands fall away and he walks out of the room. Curious, Stefan tries--and fails--to catch the expression on his face.

The next day, Klaus stands on a platform; with three of his underlings at his feet. All the other underlings are gathered around to watch.

He holds onto one of the underling’s arms, and begins snapping bones like twigs. Turning bones until a knee is backwards facing, and shoulders sit outside of joints. The pensive pout one of them has is disagreeable, so Klaus tears the skin off her face.

  
***

  
Klaus watches as Stefan shakes the hand of some aristocrat, and then idles over to where Klaus is lounging on the grass.

“You’re too trusting,” Klaus admonishes.

“How so?” Stefan asks.

“You always shake with your ring hand; it wouldn’t take much to pull it off.”

“No one has ever tried, besides, even most supernatural beings have no knowledge of daylight rings,”  
Stefan says, sitting down cross-legged a couple of feet from Klaus.

“Why are you all the way over there,” Klaus says coyly, stretching his arm to pull Stefan closer.

“Klaus!” Stefan hisses, tilting his head to point out the people around them.

“Relax, I compelled them already; they don’t even realise we’re here.”

Stefan has a firm look, signalling an oncoming lecture, before giving in and leaning into a kiss.

They kiss some more, but take things no further, content just staying in place. Klaus ponders the thought that if this were anyone else he would’ve grown bored long ago.

“Are you twelve?” he asks laughing, as Stefan begins playing a blade of grass like a harmonica.

Stefan shrugs and then throws some grass at him; Klaus’s retaliatory throw meets air as Stefan sprints off. Klaus grins widely as he chases after him, with the chorus of their laughter sharply spiking the muggy summer air.

  
***

  
In 1927, they travel to Asia, spending a few months in Japan, and a few more in China before continuing to travel across South Asia. They end up settling in the USSR, where they stay for close to two years. They then stay in Persia for six months before Stefan has a pang of homesickness and they return to America.  
Stefan and Klaus’s relationship maintains its rather dysfunctional status quo throughout this journey. One day frequenting one of their regular haunts changes everything.

  
***

  
Eyes turn his way as Klaus enters the speakeasy, followed by some of his circle. They bow in respect, and a busy waiter deviates from his duties to walk to Klaus’s side; he is well known here. Someone catches Stefan’s eye, but only for a moment before he averts his sightline. It strikes Klaus’ curiosity and he considers the person; clearly a vampire and also a stranger here. The vampire’s back is turned and he doesn’t notice Klaus or Stefan.

  
They take their usual seats, kept polished as he’s accustomed to. Klaus tries to place the vampire; he knows most of the older ones, if only by cursory descriptions. The stranger is a dark-haired, lone scotch-drinker, with shoulders devoid of the pads that seem to haunt the majority of this place’s clientele.

He considers Stefan in the seat beside him, casually gripping the neck of the decanter too tightly.

“Go ask Thomas whether they’ve procured any new wines,” Klaus demands of Stefan.

Stefan’s response is a bemused expression which quickly settles into blankness; interesting.

Stefan gestures at one of their personal waiters, as per usual.

“I said to ask Thomas,” Klaus whispers harshly.

“Fine,” Stefan says, rolling his eyes--Klaus knows--to hide his nervousness.

He observes intently as Stefan approaches the bar as far away as possible from the stranger and attempts to covertly attract Thomas’ attention. Of course, stranger notices this and moves to sneak up on Stefan. Klaus doesn’t adjust his lackadaisical posture, but stays ready to intervene if necessary; it would be remiss of him to let his toy get killed so easily. Stefan doesn’t look scared, but then he has a habit of not being so even when it would be sensible.

  
The vampire’s hand lands on Stefan’s shoulder, and Stefan gives him a resigned smile.

“Tut, tut, what’s Saint Stefan doing in an illicit place like this?”

Klaus can tell Stefan wants to turn and see if he’s watching, but he doesn’t; he just walks outside instead. The vampire downs his drink and follows.

“You can’t be here.”

“Afraid I’m going to destroy you’re tidy little nine-to-five life again? You’d be right.”

Klaus is immediately enraged by this; he’s the only one allowed to hurt Stefan. He reigns himself in and casually strolls outside.

“What have we here?” he asks, predatory smirk in place.

  
***

  
Damon’s intrigued when Stefan steps in front of him.

“Leave him alone,” Stefan says to the guy who followed them out.

Damon is startled when he realises he’s on the opposite end of Stefan’s protective stance this time; usually Damon’s the one Stefan tells to leave people alone. Amused, he steps away from Stefan, holding his hand out.

“I’m Damon.”

“Klaus,” the other vampire replies, grinning ridiculously.

[Chapter Four ](http://swirlsofblue.livejournal.com/6123.html#cutid1)

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	4. TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi

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**TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi**   
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Chapter Four

“I’m Stefan’s brother.”

“I’m aware. Would you like to come to lunch tomorrow; we have a delicious lawyer and some very old scotch,” Klaus asks, gestures brimming with charm.

“That sounds delightful,” Damon replies, mimicking Klaus’s accent.

  
***

  
After the meal, Stefan excuses himself and Klaus and Damon continue to banter, sending for more humans to drink. Klaus is intent on hearing any story Damon has on Stefan; and Damon’s happy to oblige. He tells the tale of eight-year-old Stefan breaking an arm while trying to hide from one of their aunts in a tree, and then going back up the next day sans functioning arm to rescue the orphaned baby robin he’d found there. Tells tales of mischief, and scheming, and dreaming, and cooking, and somehow it doesn’t even occur to him to mention their times as vampires.

Klaus and he end up spending the day together.

Damon kisses Klaus; he tastes of fresh blood and fish pie.

The next second, they’re tearing at each other’s clothes, flipping each other over with vampire power, grinding against each other forcefully.

  
***

  
The next day, Stefan seeks out Klaus and finds him in the library.

“What are you doing?” Stefan asks, his arms folded and his face attempting blankness.

“Playing. You didn’t tell me your brother was so handsome.”

“I want you to stop messing around with him.”

“Can’t always get what you want.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I like making you squirm,” Klaus replies in a wicked cadence.

  
***

  
2011

“Stay here and do what Stefan tells you to,” Klaus orders, heading out the door.

Katherine scowls, she’s three times older than Stefan, she made him, and she’s not going to let him control her. The idea of forging an alliance behind Klaus’s back has already flown out the window; she already suspects there’s more to their relationship than meets the eye.

“You aren’t compelled at all, are you?” Katherine asks, even though it’s more statement than question.

“Nope,” Stefan replies.

“How long have you known Klaus?” Katherine asks perceptively.

“A while.”

Katherine gives Stefan a curious look. He’s playing coy, not evasive; if he didn’t want her to know he would’ve denied it altogether.

“Did you find Elena for Klaus?” she asks.

At that Stefan shuts down, busying himself with some books. She picks up a bottle of whisky and takes a swig, choosing not to poke for now. Katherine knows it’s best to stay on Stefan’s good side.

  
***

  
Stefan is sitting in the drawing room, reading a book.

Klaus and Damon enter with their arms leisurely slung around each other’s shoulders. Stefan’s own shoulders twitch.

“Look at him, so sexy when he’s jealous don’t you think?”

“He’s my brother.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’re a little sick,” Damon says smiling.

“More than a little. Stefan, you should join us,” says Klaus.

“No. I’m not playing this game,” Stefan says.

“Refusing to play is still playing,” Klaus points out.

“I guess I’ll just sit here in silence then.”

“Is he always this grouchy when he doesn’t get his way?” Klaus asks.

“One time he brooded so hard his hair wilted,” Damon answers.

  
***

  
Stefan finds Damon later, ambling around in a state of mild drunkenness.

“You need to leave,” he tells Damon, his hands falling onto his brother’s shoulders, urging strongly.

“That doesn’t really fit with my plan to steal your lover.”

Stefan’s face seems to crumple into a morose ball of paper; if he were human, he would be red-faced with frustration;

“Klaus is dangerous, Damon, what part of that don’t you understand?” Stefan exclaims.

“I know, and I’m not leaving you alone to have all the excitement; remember--eternity of misery.”

“Are you going to say that every time we see each other?”

“Only until you get it into your head.”

Stefan doesn’t respond, just turns away abruptly.

  
***

  
Two weeks after Damon intruded on his life yet again, Stefan is sitting hunched over at the bar. Klaus slides onto the adjacent bar stool.

“Still sulking?” Klaus asks jovially.

Stefan doesn’t raise his stare from the tumbler of whisky in front of him.

“Don’t worry; you’re still my favourite.”

Stefan does a quarter turn on the stool to face Klaus, marking him with a solid stare;

“If, maybe just for a little while, you stopped trying to _win_ at every relationship, stopped trying to lord yourself over everyone, thinking us unwitting toys in your game, you might actually garner something with meaning.”

“I have all the meaning I care for.”

“Maybe it’s time for me to end this then,” Stefan says, gesturing between the two of them.

“You’re mine Stefan, and you’ll be mine until I decide I’m done with you,” Klaus says, giving Stefan a pointed look, and then picks up a nut, crushing in his hand as he slides off his stool and walks away.

  
***

“You need to stop this; it isn’t a good idea,” Alexander says.

“Since when are you on Stefan’s side?” Klaus asks.

“I’m on no one’s side, but if you carry on with this you’re going to lose him.”

“He won’t run; he knows I would catch him.”

“I’ve known you for nine hundred years Klaus, who do you think you’re fooling?”

“You’ve begun to worry too much. Stefan’s a bad influence.”

“I just wonder about the mood you’ll be in when everything blows up. That’s never enjoyable for any of us.”

  
***

  
“Plans?” Klaus asks casually, as he finds Damon packing a bag.

“Heading to Phoenix for the weekend,” Damon replies.

“It would be polite to ask first,” Klaus says cordially, while keeping a steel-like grip on his arm.

“Permission is much more Stefan’s style,” Damon says, struggling to take back his limb.

“Ask nicely, or you’re not going,” Klaus says.

Damon gives Klaus a searching look, realisation sinking in;

“This controlling shtick you’ve got going may work with baby brother, but I’m not playing.”

“Maybe Stefan’s just smart enough to know what’s best for him. You should follow his example.”

“If he was smart, he would’ve left already; just like I plan to.”

“Damon, I wouldn’t try to leave if I were you; the guards have appalling aim, I wouldn’t want you to end up with a stake in your heart.”

  
***

  
Stefan goes to find Klaus as soon as he hears about him threatening Damon, protective instincts at their peak.

“If you hurt Damon, I swear...” Stefan trails off, hoping his voice holds more threat than he feels.

Klaus only chuckles.

“Don’t, don’t do this.”

“You swear what Stefan,” Klaus taunts, circling Stefan close enough for idle sleeves to brush against each other, “I would think you would know better, after all this time.”

Stefan swallows, straightens defiantly, with only a sombre facial expression, and then speaks.

“You would be surprised what I can muster up.”

  
***

  
“So Stefan, know any good ways out of here? Secret tunnels? Security blind spots?”

“You’re trying to get out? It will take some work; there’re even guards up in the trees.”

“So go on a suicide mission or stay as a slave. Fun choice: suicide mission it is.”

It takes little thought for Stefan to come to a decision. He loves Klaus, but he won’t let Klaus hurt Damon, he _can’t_ ;

“With some planning we could do it. The place is more designed to keep people out, than keep them in.”

“There’s no we. You’re not coming with me.”

“I’ve been here for years; I know the layout, traps and blind spots. You would have almost no chance without me.”

  
***

  
“You want me to help you escape?” Cora exclaims incredulously.

“Yes, no one wants to be rid of me more than you: you think I get missions that should be yours, you think  
I have a standing with Klaus that should be yours; in short, I’m a threat to you.”

“Maybe I’ll just let Klaus know about your little plan, and let him decapitate you.”

“I’ll tell him I found out you were going to betray him, and you’re covering yourself; who do you think he’ll believe?”

“It would be worth it, not to have to see your annoying face anymore,” Cora finally agrees, already gleefully envisioning the torture Klaus will put Stefan through once he gets caught.

  
***

  
“Now we just need to figure out where Cora is going to double-cross us, and we’re all set.”

“Working with a back-stabber sounds like a plan I’d come up with.”

“It can’t be helped, we need someone who can reorganise some of the guards. If I move too many myself it will look suspicious and they’ll catch on. Plus if there are two of us giving the orders, it gives more weight to the idea that we’re just following Klaus’s orders.”

“And we’re just going to take out the rest?”

“No, we’re creating enough blind spots to sneak around them. It’s the only way to get far enough away before anyone realises we’re gone. Most of Klaus’s underlings are stronger and faster. All we have is our head-start.”

  
***

Stefan and Damon slip out after nightfall. The darkness isn’t much of an advantage in a playground of vampires, but it’s better than nothing. Stefan’s repositioning was subtle but effective; they wind their way across Klaus’s lands with relative ease. They’re three quarters of the way through when they’re spotted.

“Hey there!” a guard calls.

Stefan freezes for a millisecond, and then relaxes into a casual stance, striding up to the guard.

“Hello, Petey. We were just a tad peckish; I was going to show my brother the Blue Fox place. Did you see that lovely redhead there last week?”

“Stefan, you know the rules,” he replies with indulgent sternness.

“Come on, bend them a little; I’ll put in a good word with Klaus. We’ll be back before sunrise, who’s going to know?”

“I’ll know, and so will you,” he says, a frown suddenly blossoming on his face, and he collapses.

That’s when Stefan sees the needle sticking out of him.

“What did you do?” Stefan asks Damon in a loud whisper.

“Solved the problem.”

“And created a whole slew of new ones. He’s not going to stay out for long.”

“Then we should be running already, not standing here and arguing.”

“No, we have to stay.”

“You’re kidding,” Damon says disbelieving.

“The alarm will be sounded, and we’ll be caught before we even exit the grounds.”

“And your plan is to stay here and wait for the guard I just neutralised to wake up. Have you been putting something in your blood other than livestock?”

“Trust me,” Stefan pleads in a hard tone.

Damon looks in the direction of escape, knowing Stefan won’t be moving from the spot.

“Fine.”  
Stefan cradles Pete’s head as he awakens.

“Sorry about that, my brother tends to be too trigger-happy,” Stefan says apologetically.

“Well, this will have to be reported,” the guard says angrily.

“Of course it does. Klaus will be greatly displeased at your failure.”

“What failure?” the guard spat sceptically.

“Well, you were having a conversation with people you were supposed to stop from leaving, and neither anticipated, nor were alert enough to prevent, an attack,” Stefan stated, maintaining a blankly apologetic tone.

The guard continued to peer at Stefan dubiously, but as Stefan’s bland stare didn’t budge for minutes, began to look noticeably uncomfortable.

“You know, we’re buddies right.”

“You know the rules, Pete,” Stefan says unyielding.

“Come on man, do a guy a favour?” he asks, nervousness barely hidden under a wrinkled forehead.

“I’ll hand in the report in the morning; you have until then to get yourself out of trouble.”

“Thank you, Stefan,” Pete says, running off.

“He’s not too bright,” Damon comments.

“No, he’s not, Klaus likes the circle smart, and the drones dumbly obedient, though give Pete a little credit; I am the man whispering in the kings ear.”

“So how come you’re sneaking out in the middle of the night?”

“Melted wings,” Stefan deadpans, shrugging.

  
***

  
“Where’s Stefan?” Klaus asks.

“I haven’t seen him,” is the reply he gets from Alexander and Chef.

An unsettled feeling stirs in his gut, but he ignores it; Stefan’s probably off in a corner somewhere, brooding.

He continues with his activities for the day, handing out tasks, going over schemes, drinking from attractive young women; Stefan’s absence only a mild buzzing at the back of his mind. It’s nearly midnight before the buzzing turns to an insistent noisy drill, and he orders the staff to search the grounds for him.  
Klaus can hear their whispers, the reluctance to be the messenger. He knows the words are coming long before they reach his ears: Stefan is gone.

  
The drill hollers angrily in his head, and he sits cracking knuckles, staring at the crooked edge of one of the landscapes hanging on the wall. Alexander is of course the only one with the courage to come to him. No words are said; they both know there is no need.

“Dammit!” he roars, picking up the table and throwing it against the askew painting.

Then he lifts the chaise lounge, and bashes it against the ground until it’s in pieces.

“Find him! Send everyone!” Klaus bellows at Alexander, who is standing entirely too still.

Alexander gives a quick nod, walking out with a purposeful stride.

Klaus continues to destroy the room.

  
***

  
Stefan and Damon wordlessly stick together, traversing the states as fast as they can. It has been four days, and Stefan can feel the hunger clawing at his insides, bones rub against each other chalk-like--bloodless and dry--they’re both exhausted. No one seems to have any idea where they are, so they decide to finally stop for a few hours. Stefan lies down, shutting his eyes momentarily; secure in the knowledge that his brother has his back. He listens to his brother’s movements and, despite their apparent hatred for each other, finds the sounds comforting. He hears as Damon drinks deeply from a young brunette, compelling away her memory as soon as he’s done.

  
“You should stick to people blood; they’ll be looking for a trail of little puppies.”

Stefan ignores Damon; he will just be more careful.

There’s a distant shuffle. Stefan opens his eyes, sitting up. Both brothers look sharply at each other, sensing an approach on the edges of their hearing range.

When the door splinters in half; they’re ready. Two vampires fly at them. Damon drives a stake towards one of them, blocking the vampire’s attack, and Stefan goes to the other one. Damon’s stake is kicked away, but he jumps over the room to break a wooden panel off the bed. The vampire follows Damon, and they continue to fight. Stefan manages to plant a stake in the other vampire’s torso, but it’s barely an inch deep before he’s jumped from behind. Stefan struggles fruitlessly as both his wrists are captured. Just as he thinks defeat is imminent, the vampire collapses--stake in heart--thanks to Damon.

  
The remaining vampire uses that moment to thrust a stake at Damon, but Stefan blocks him, and the brothers fight him for a couple of minutes before he chooses to make a strategic retreat; much too fast for the Salvatores to follow.

“We should go,” Stefan says.

“I’m not arguing,” Damon agrees.

  
***

  
Klaus taps his fingers with impatience. As the fourth day since Stefan’s escape slips into the fifth, Klaus can’t help but feel a spectre of anxiety over his shoulder, envisioning Stefan disappearing into oblivion; just as his maker did centuries earlier.

That’s when one of his underlings, Noel, enters, bringing news of an encounter with the Salvatore brothers.

“They managed to get away,” Noel reports nervously.

“That is unacceptable,” Klaus states in a low, cold voice.

“At least we have an idea where they are now; it will make tracking them easier.”

“Very well, I’ll let it lie this time, but do not fail me again,”

“Yes milord. The thing is, working together they make a strong team, it would go smoother if we could just kill them.”

“I want them alive,” Klaus says with a harsh note of finality, dismissing Noel.

Klaus accepts that deep inside he loves Stefan; he’s old enough to not delude himself, that doesn’t mean he can’t tuck that knowledge away until it’s pertinent that he remembers it.

  
***

  
“Tired of this,” Damon says, as they slow down for a minute.

“We don’t have a choice, unless you have a better idea?”

“Yeah, we go back and fight.”

“Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m kidding.”

“You know Klaus will kill you.”

“Maybe, maybe not, better to confront and battle and die, than live forever looking over my shoulder and running and being chased, I’m not that guy.”

“Aren’t you being overdramatic? It has only been six days, not exactly a long time.”

“Alright, how long before Klaus stops pursuing us?”

“A year, maybe two.”

“You’re lying. How long?”

“Not lying, and anyway once we get far enough away and once our trail is lost things will all settle down even sooner.”

“How long Stefan?”

“He won’t stop.”

“Exactly.”

  
***

  
The phone rings, and Klaus walks to the parlour to answer, he’s more surprised than he should be when the operator tells him it’s a ‘Stefan Salvatore.’

“I want to make a deal,” Stefan’s voice comes out flat.

“Ok, come back and I’ll only torture you both for a little while before killing you.”

“And they say the key to your villainy is your seductive offers.”

“Damon’s going to come here and try to fight me isn’t he.”

Stefan sighs, pausing before speaking.

“You can have me if you let him go; and compel him--make him forget you ever met--so he doesn’t try to return.”

“No. I would rather have you both. And when Damon comes, you’ll follow.”

“Except then, instead of having me willing to do whatever you want, you’ll have me kicking and screaming and trying to escape. And I escaped once, I will again.”

“I’ll be sure to lock you up a lot tighter.”

“You want this deal. You just need to get out of the way of your own ego and make it.”

“Well, that makes me want to say ‘yes’.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Fine, it’s a deal.”

***

  
Klaus doesn’t waste any time as Stefan and Damon approach; he grabs a hold of Damon, compelling him almost automatically.

“You won’t remember me or any of the time you spent in this place or on the run. You will leave and not return; nothing about this will seem unusual.”

Klaus whisks Stefan away, as Damon blinks and disappears off in the distance.

He pulls Stefan into a kiss, biting roughly. It feels like it has been much longer than one week. He notices that Stefan’s response isn’t passionate in kind; lips only moving pliant over his.

“Seriously, you’re going to continue with the moping?”

“I’m just holding up my end of the deal.”

“Why don’t we forget the whole deal, and go back to how things were before?”

“After what you did, we don’t get to go back to normal Klaus.”

“I let your brother go, didn’t I?”

“Yes, and you get me in return.”

“I’m granting you mercy, Stefan; you should be more grateful.”

  
***

  
As soon as they’re back at the mansion, Klaus takes Stefan into his bed chambers, and lays him out on the bed like a china doll. This seems no different than his treatment of many people who came before Stefan, and yet he knows this _is_ different.

  
Klaus knows Stefan well enough to know that they won’t be going back to the way it was anytime soon. That doesn’t mean he can’t mould Stefan’s subservience into a perfect facsimile. He glides a hand slowly over Stefan’s torso and kisses pepper-light, but goes no further than a few kisses and touches, says that it’s because Stefan isn’t attractive when he’s acting so boring. But Klaus doesn’t go beyond this, because he knows there will be no going back, and he doesn’t want to lose that stupid shred of hope, doesn’t want Stefan to hate him for all the innumerable centuries awaiting them.

  
When Klaus is done, he lies flat on his back. The expectation of Stefan’s irritatingly cloying curling up against him is automatic, but an instant later he realises it’s not going to come. He looks over at Stefan, who now has his back to him, and inexplicably longs for life’s annoyances.

  
***

  
Klaus goes about his daily business. He sees Stefan in his periphery; like a jittery butterfly. The everyday minutia is off, from the carefully measured carefree morning kiss, to the handing over of an underling’s schedule (fingers caught and flinched apart). Stefan is all wrong-edged, moving his face to fit the lie. Klaus considers compelling him, but he knows that will be a far larger lie.

  
***

  
Most nights, Klaus no longer touches Stefan. On those he does, he places Stefan on the table; the bed taunts him unforgivingly.

Klaus watches Stefan as he smiles under his hands and ministrations and can’t quite quell the ache that this isn’t real. The longing that this not be a lie is entirely new; it bemuses him. Coercion usually increases his enjoyment, not reduces it; the thrill of making them feel as he wants them to, making them do what he wants them to--it all dies in Stefan’s smile. The appeal of muddying waters has dulled and he hesitates--almost flinches away--from tarnishing this sparkling pool. He can’t bear to lose its cool clearness even if it means he can never really have it, never hold it in his blood-stained hands.

  
***

  
Stefan kneels beside him. It doesn’t give Klaus the usual satisfaction. Stefan’s smile is too tooth-filled to be convincing.

“You’re a vampire Stefan; you should know how to forge a decent smile.”

“You can make me do whatever you want, and I’ll do it; you just need to figure out if you can be happy with that instead of the actual relationship we used to have.”

“Don’t test me, Stefan; you won’t like the results.”

“You’re the one who wanted to play.”

  
***

  
After considering and rejecting the idea of compelling Stefan a handful of times, Klaus finally decides to go ahead with it. After all, he’s only compelling Stefan to forget certain events; it doesn’t make anything any less real. Except his own justifications fail to convince him, but he has reached the point where he’s too weary to care. It has been months since they met Damon at the speakeasy. All he wants is Stefan back.

  
“I’m sorry,” he tells Stefan, brushing a stray hair behind Stefan’s ear.

Klaus can almost taste the significance of the moment and hates it.

“You’re going to forget that we ever met Damon in that speakeasy,” Klaus says.

There’s surprise written all over Stefan’s face, before it dulls into the blank throes of compulsion and returns to normal again. But the surprise had lasted a moment too long.

“Do you have vervain?” Klaus asks plainly.

“No,” Stefan lies obviously.

“Strip,” Klaus orders.

Stefan sighs, but does as he’s told. Klaus finds nothing.

“You’ve been drinking it, impressive.”

  
***

  
Stefan takes in the cell he has been left in; Klaus wants the vervain out of his system. The window is small; every surface in the room is dark-edged, subdued by the narrow stream of light.

He thinks about how to convince Klaus he has been compelled, how to act, which expressions to make. Stefan can lie well, but not in these circumstances; his face always gives him away. He will have to do better.

Stefan contorts his face, picturing a mirror in front of him.

  
***

  
Klaus compels Stefan, but, as well as Stefan acts, it’s obvious that night when he cringes at even Klaus’s feather-touches that he hasn’t been compelled.

“I need you to find out why I can’t compel Stefan,” Klaus tells Ida, his trusted witch.

“Get me something of Stefan’s,” Ida tells him.

He acquiesces, giving her Stefan’s comb. Klaus watches as she presses an herbal mixture against the comb and mutters a spell almost silently over a bowl of water.

“Well?” says Klaus, as Ida stands back head tilted in understanding.

“It’s a spell; Stefan must have gotten someone to perform it on him, which is the only way these spells work. Yes, definitely a spell to block compulsion.”

“Hmm, I should’ve expected this of Stefan. And I suppose breaking the spell will be complex and intricate.”

“Actually it’s quite simple, but you’re not going to like it. Stefan connected his own life-force to the spell; the only way to break it would be to kill him.”

“That negates the point somewhat. Is there another way?”

“No, you’re going to have to figure out a different way to get what you want out of Stefan.”

  
***

  
Klaus wraps his arms around Stefan from behind. Stefan takes a second longer than is pleasing to relax into his embrace.

“You’re doing it wrong again,” Klaus chides.

“I’m not doing anything wrong; you’re the one who’s struggling to fool himself into believing this is anything but a charade.”

“See that’s wholly your problem, because if you don’t start doing what I want; I won’t see much point in keeping our deal, and then brother dearest will be in a smidgen of trouble.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll try harder,” Stefan says, placatingly.

That’s when Klaus sees it--the fear in Stefan’s eyes. It’s mostly concealed but unquestionably there. There’s an odd stinging in his nose and throat that he doesn’t recognise until tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, he blinks them away. He forces his hurt away, mutating it to anger and plays all the rougher.

“You better,” he growls, teeth hovering over Stefan’s jugular.

  
***

  
Klaus spends the next several months going from witch’s door to witch’s door, dragging Stefan behind him; trying to find out whose handiwork the compulsion blocking spell was and another way to undo it. Stefan never says a word of who it could be, and the witches are none the wiser. But they are all certain on one point: finding the witch won’t help him; the only way to end the spell is with Stefan’s death.

  
Klaus constantly hangs the notion of what he could do to Damon over Stefan’s head like a haunting storm. But he makes a point of facing another direction when he makes threats so he doesn’t see Stefan’s expression. He uses his threats as a tool to adjust Stefan’s behaviour, correcting any deviation. Stefan learns quickly, but every day Klaus seems to find something new that needs fixing. And now, many months down the road, Klaus has to do little more than say Stefan’s name in a stern tone for the warning message to be conveyed and acted on.

  
Of course he researches methods of resurrection, but the many possibilities available for humans don’t apply to vampires. It’s not like with his siblings, where he can simply pull the dagger out; there’s no guarantee Stefan will come back; and that’s an unacceptable risk. Stefan’s act is improving every day, and Klaus chooses to employ a rare bout of patience instead.

  
***

  
2011

Katherine thinks carefully before posing a question the next time she and Stefan are alone, deciding to stay off the whole doppelganger issue. She knows Stefan and Klaus were apart for at least the year and a half Stefan was in Mystic Falls because she would’ve known if Klaus were around.

“So you and Klaus just carried on where you left off?” Katherine says.

“We have blips every now and then; sometimes we just need some time apart,” Stefan says, surprisingly open.

“How functional,”

“For certain definitions of functional,” Stefan laughs.

“Klaus won’t be happy with you speaking so freely about it,” Katherine chastises mockingly.

“It’s nice to talk; besides who are you going to tell?” Stefan asks with a vindictive intonation.

“Don’t be mean Stefan. All this torture has me very ill-tempered, and no one’s here to protect you now,” says Katherine, smirking.

  
***

  
1931

Klaus and Stefan are resting on the side of the road; they’re travelling to meet an acquaintance because it would take far too long for said acquaintance to journey to them without the convenience of a daylight ring. Klaus lies relaxed, passing wine bottles filled with blood back and forth, parrying easy banter with Stefan, grinning, as thick as thieves. Then Stefan laughs perfectly light-heartedly, with twinkle-absent eyes, and everything shatters.

  
Klaus does a double-take, he fools himself sometimes; it has been three years, and Stefan has gotten much better at the pretence, and sometimes he goes days believing that Stefan has forgiven him, that everything is like it once was. Then something happens and Klaus is reminded that he’s kidding himself, and it hurts all the more, remembering the feel of the past.

  
***

  
Klaus sits staring absently at a Ming vase.

“You can leave,” he tells Stefan, his voice a dull monotone.

“Alright...I’ll see you tomorrow,” Stefan says, considering Klaus’s behaviour to be curious.

“No. Leave, and don’t come back.”

“You’re letting me go?” says a shocked Stefan, voice quivering with uncertainty.

“Go!” Klaus exclaims, gaze not leaving the vase.

Stefan doesn’t speed away, only walks slowly. Klaus listens to the younger vampire’s footsteps down the stairs and through the front parlour.

Hears Stefan halt to say goodbyes, can imagine that much missed smile back on his face.

[Chapter Five](http://swirlsofblue.livejournal.com/6191.html#cutid1)

\-----


	5. TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi

_**TVD Big Bang Fic; A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi**_  
Chapter Five

Years pass and Klaus’ longing for Stefan doesn’t wane, it sits like an emptiness inside him. At times he plans to find the witch who made it impossible for him to compel Stefan, force them to undo what they’ve done. But he knows a compelled Stefan by his side would feel worse still. He buries himself for months at a time in a miring of destruction, more pointless than it ever was before. It’s only after a decade that he puts a stop to the ridiculousness.

  
He still watches Stefan at times; it’s a masochistic pleasure. It’s a thrill being near Stefan, seeing what he’s doing, spying his smiles and laughter; even though the sound forms claustrophobic pits in his chest. He sees Katherine watching Stefan, too, more than once. But even as he knows he has people out looking for her, he cannot bring himself to care, and doesn’t allow her to see his presence. Perhaps he feels a kinship with her; having the same pathetic desire--so above older vampires; and yet here they are. Maybe this is Stefan’s true darkness; as a siren luring every passing lover to lie on the rocks, forever broken.

  
***

  
2010

  
Stefan suspects when he sees Tyler’s aggression towards Jeremy on the night of the full moon. Stefan knows when Mason’s hand slips around his own to arm-wrestle.

“What are they?” Damon asks.

So Stefan answers him; throws werewolf out there, sandwiched between zombies and ninja turtles.

  
***

  
1956

Klaus leans against one of the many silver poles that stand pointlessly in the diner and watches as Stefan leaves his seat to play with the jukebox. Afterwards, however, Stefan doesn’t return to his seat, instead strolling in Klaus’s direction. He makes no move to acknowledge Stefan, and Stefan in turn stands beside him, both of them idly watching the other customers.

“Hey,” Stefan finally says quietly.

“I’m not in the mood for niceties,” Klaus curtly responds.

“Okay then, how about sex?”

  
***

  
Stefan unbuttons Klaus’s shirt as he’s backed towards the hotel bed. Stefan’s apartment isn’t that far but neither of them wanted to wait. Klaus is far gentler than he used to be, laying kisses reverentially--an unspoken ‘I missed you’ icing every one. Stefan is perplexingly both exhilarated and disturbed by it. Stefan, in turn, is much softer with Klaus, with the exception of the occasional nip of course.

  
When they’re done, he simply lies next to Klaus, instead of clinging to him like he used to. This has to be a new start. He counts time in his head, giving them both a few minutes, and then gets up and begins redressing.

Stefan doesn’t want to leave, but knows if he doesn’t they’ll end up in the same possessive circle of last time.

“I should be going. Maybe we could meet up sometime next week?” Stefan says, feeling awkwardly human.

“Don’t leave. You have to stay,” Klaus says and doesn’t notice how harshly it came out until he sees Stefan’s eyes darken into the blank stare he has grown to loathe.

He’s severely disturbed by how terrified the idea of going back to that time in their relationship makes him. He wants to tell Stefan that’s not how he meant it to sound, but that thought itself angers him to no end; he’s Klaus, master of vampires, he won’t insult his own standing with apologies.

“Don’t give me that look; don’t think for a minute you can play me, you don’t want to know what I’ll do if you try to string me along,” Klaus says angrily through gritted teeth.

Stefan gives him an incredulous look.

“Really? You’re your own worst enemy.”

“I’ve always shown you mercy, Stefan; don’t make the mistake of assuming I can’t be otherwise,” Klaus snarls, letting the crumbling cracks in his voice form vicious edges.

He knows he’s ruining this, probably his last chance, feels too angry and vulnerable and broken to stop himself. Stefan has a severe look on his face, and Klaus can practically feel Stefan shutting him out again. It feels like being lost. His insides seem to be strangling themselves. Then suddenly Stefan’s face slopes into a grin.

“You’re so silly,” Stefan says with a childlike inflection.

Klaus thinks he may have to kill him. He settles on asking a question instead.

“So are you staying?”

“No,” Stefan says, looping his arms around Klaus’s neck.

“Why not?” Klaus asks, struggling to keep the venom from his voice.

“I’m not going back to the way things were.”

“You liked the way things were.”

“That was before you kept me as your slave for three years.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I thought, after all this time, you might be willing to make a change.”

“I can’t,” Klaus tells him adamantly.

“I’m not asking you to change who you are, only try to do some things differently.”

“Fine, I’ll try,” Klaus begrudges, mulling over how long he will have to go along with it.

How long could he go along with it before Stefan chooses to leave instead of bothering with the effort of dealing with him? Everyone always leaves him; if anything his crime is holding onto them too tightly when they do.

“Hey, thinking too much is my gig--are you in?” Stefan interrupts his thoughts.

“You know how I hate repeating myself.”

“That wasn’t an agreement, it was a lie.”

“If I do this; you’ve got to do your part, too.”

“Sure, as long as my part doesn’t involve slaughtering a village.”

“You’re no fun. Okay I’m in.”

“Good, we’ll talk next week,” Stefan says, readying himself to leave.

  
***

  
As he’s walking down the stairs he hears Klaus say words so softly that, if he was twenty years younger, he would’ve missed: “I love you.”

  
***

  
“Firstly, no more throwing me against walls and beating me up, or carving me up, or anything of that variety.”

“I could find more appealing ways of expressing my anger,” Klaus husks sexily.

“Whatever works,” Stefan says with a snort. “Secondly, no more controlling when I come and go.”

“No.”

“Not even going to suggest a compromise?”

“I can’t have anyone coming and going from my places without my knowledge; it’s a security risk,” Klaus says. It’s a valid reason, even if it’s not the actual reason.

“Ok, then we can hang out at my place,” Stefan says.

“Your place is too small, and too ugly.”

“What do you think is going to happen if you leave me to come and go as I please?”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“You’re right; this is about your ridiculously possessive behaviour.”

“Don’t you think a partner should know where someone is; what if you got kidnapped?”

“Yeah, because that’s what you’re worried about. Okay, how about I tell you where I’m going when I go out, but you’re not allowed to say I can’t go, demand I be back at a certain time, or follow me when I do go,” Stefan says, rolling his eyes.

“And if I disagree?”

“Then maybe we shouldn’t live together.”

“This isn’t going to work if you want to go steady, and have me give you a promise ring. I don’t go on dates; too pedestrian.”

“Then maybe this isn’t going to work.”

“Okay, let’s go back to your idea of telling me when you’re going out. Can we at least discuss a time to come back by?”

“Sure, I’ll stick to a curfew if you will,” Stefan challenges.

“You’re hilarious,” Klaus states dryly.

  
***

  
2011

“So how come you didn’t tell lover boy you found the girl he had spent a millennium looking for,” Katherine asks, twisting the knife.

“I wanted to see how long it would take Klaus to find me,” Stefan says with a smirk.

“Stefan has a habit of being difficult,” Klaus growls, amber lighting his eyes.

Katherine knows she can use the whole Elena issue to twist the two of them against each other and around her little finger. She resolves to get herself plenty of time with both of them separately.

  
***

  
1956

Klaus hides his tentativeness behind wolfish grins. He allows Stefan more freedom than he would prefer because by now he knows too well that loyalty isn’t fostered through enforced servitude. He acts as if Stefan’s rules don’t matter, and he isn’t really trying, only indulging Stefan for his amusement. It’s easier than he thought it would be to stop throwing Stefan into walls, he merely directs his anger elsewhere; and there isn’t much anger left anymore anyway--for the time being he’s too busy with elation.

  
But when he finds the note Stefan left with the butler, letting Klaus know he is out and will be back late, that’s when Klaus discovers the difficult part. It feels so abrupt, and suddenly he wants Stefan’s company. Stefan is his. Klaus should know what he’s doing, and when he’s going to be back, and should be able to spend time with him when he wants to. Stefan’s supposed to be there so Klaus isn’t alone. He imagines Stefan laughing with someone else, dancing with someone else in that reluctantly exuberant way of his; enjoying himself with somebody else. Stefan should be doing those things with him.

  
His mind spirals darkly and he can’t focus on anything, instead he sits in the front parlour and waits for Stefan to return. The grandfather clock taunts him, and he punches its gears into fragments. Klaus feels it’s already unreasonably late, how late is ‘late’ anyway? He’s jittery, and as much as it isn’t his main issue he can’t help picturing Stefan staked or burnt alive, Stefan’s so young--anything could happen.  
The moment Stefan walks in, Klaus pulls him into a frenzied kiss, reaffirming that Stefan’s there; occupying this space beside his own body.

  
***

  
“This is stupid, I’m not doing this anymore; you belong to me, you were ok with the way things were once, and you’ll get used to it again,” Klaus says as casually as he can muster.

“Hey,” Stefan says softly, intruding his personal space.

“What,” Klaus says, rolling his eyes.

Stefan cups Klaus’s face in his hands, Klaus lets him.

“Everyone’s afraid sometimes,” Stefan tells Klaus with careful sympathy.

“I’m not a child.”

“This is going to work. We are going to make it work,” Stefan declares.

And somehow they do.

  
***

  
“One room please,” Klaus says, grinning maniacally with his arm slung around--and body pressed up against--Stefan in a move that left little to the imagination. The man frowned at them sternly, but handed over the key.

Stefan turned to him and looked into his eyes; “Forget we were ever here.”

“Aw, I was looking forward to having the policemen for a snack.”

“We’re going to be much too busy for snacking,” Stefan says slyly, sending a smouldering look Klaus’s way.

  
***

  
2011

“I didn’t want you to break the curse, and unleash the apocalypse,” seems to be Stefan’s party line to Klaus on why he didn’t reveal that he had found Elena.

Klaus seems to accept this answer by an act of wilful denial.

Katherine sidles up to Stefan on the couch one day when Klaus is off somewhere manoeuvring his schemes. Stefan immediately moves to sit on the other side of the room, and she follows. Stefan sighs but this time stays put.

“What do you want Katherine?”

“Just to chat, is it so bad of me to ask for some simple company,” Katherine asks.

“No, but that’s never all you’re ask for,” Stefan says softly.

“What about you Stefan? You’re with Klaus after all he has done. He killed my entire family. I don’t dismiss you for that; don’t I deserve the same courtesy.”

“Fine,” Stefan says resignedly, pausing before continuing, “you never told me anything about your family.”

“I had two sisters, they were like little angels; it was sickening,” Katherine says with true fondness.

“And you of course were the little devil,” Stefan says with a laughter-ripe timbre.

“I still miss them,” Katherine whispers. It only helps her plight that her unshed tears are genuine.

“I’m sorry Klaus killed them,” Stefan says sorrowfully.

“I should’ve anticipated it from someone like him. Do you ever miss Elena?” Katherine asks cautiously. She wonders whether Stefan knows that she knows Elena’s alive.

“Sometimes,” Stefan admits.

“I could help you remember her, I mean if you want me to,” Katherine says, keeping her tone slightly unsure and minutely vulnerable.

“Katherine!” Stefan admonishes.

Katherine lets the hard edges of her expression soften into a more Elena-esque position.

“I don’t mean sex Stefan, I mean just to be,” Katherine says, taking his hand with a solemn look in her eyes.

Stefan pulls away almost too urgently, and Katherine hides a wily smile.

  
***

  
1958

Stefan is gone. He hadn’t said anything. Klaus tries to calm himself; rationally he knows Stefan probably just forgot to let him know. The niggling voice in his head says otherwise, says Stefan is doing this on purpose; to manipulate him, to make him so crazy he’s like clay in Stefan’s hand. It seems more plausible the more the thought races around in his head.

Stefan enters with his cheekbones laughter high. It enrages Klaus all the more. Before he even thinks, Klaus throws Stefan up against the wall; driving a stake through his stomach.

“Klaus,” Stefan says in a dull monotone, hearing it brings the realisation of what he has just done.  
Fury is replaced by cold, hard fear. He doesn’t accept others’ mistakes, and doesn’t expect his own mistakes to be accepted. Klaus does what he always does; goes on the offensive.

“You’re the one who...”

“Don’t,” Stefan interrupts. Klaus puffs silently.

“Well?” Stefan asks, gesturing expectantly.

“Want me to get you a squirrel?” Klaus asks, secretly relieved, he knows how this will play out.

“That, and an apology too.”

Klaus considers protesting, but picks being unpredictable instead;

“I’m sorry.”

It’s sincere, but probably in the wrong way. Klaus is surprised he gets off so lightly.

  
***

  
That one off tumbles them into a series of semi-battles and near misses.

“I’m not doing this with you Klaus; I’m not tolerating us sliding back to how we were, even if it’s only rarely,” Stefan says two months later, when the problems show no sign of abating.

“You should be happy that I’ve done as much as I have Stefan, stop being unreasonable.”

“You’re trying, that’s great, but I’m not waiting around for you to still be making the same excuse in a decade.”

“Then what are you going to do; because I’m not sticking around for a life sentence comprising of your boring speeches.”

“Maybe we should have a reset, take a break for a while, and then start over.”

“Fine,” Klaus snaps curtly, swiftly leaving.

  
***

  
Stefan and Klaus come back together three months later all the stronger, and from that point on they flit out of each other’s lives for a few months at a time, and everything runs smoother, and they both feel free to live their own life. Stefan spends a few months in ’62 with Damon, a few months in ’65 with Lexi, spends the second half of ’66 going from friend to friend, and four months in ’69 with his family in Mystic Falls. Stefan attends Harvard in 1970, and insists on having the full Varsity experience- no Originals included- and their summers are spent together, drinking champagne and blood and strawberries.

  
***

  
2011

“Doesn’t it bother you that he wandered off and fell in love with someone else?”

“He didn’t love Elena anymore than he loves every bleeding heart,” Klaus scoffs.

“And it doesn’t bother you that he kept her alive? Oh, he hasn’t told you, has he?” Katherine says with a grin.

“So Elena’s alive, it’s irrelevant. Stefan’s still here with me.”

“Yeah, probably to stop you from killing her again.”

Klaus runs his fingers over Katherine’s neck sensually, but it’s a caress tainted with warning.

“One great aspect of being as old as I am, is that I always know when Stefan is lying and when you are manipulating, though you have been sloppy lately; all our fun must have messed up your pretty little brain.”

“There’s hardly a point in subtlety when your denial is so glaringly blatant,” Katherine says, stepping away from menacing fingers, and out of the room.

Stefan holds onto the door, entering as Katherine exits.

“You know I will always choose you,” Stefan tells Klaus. It’s the truth.

“Yeah, I know,” Klaus answers with an easy-going smile.

  
***

  
In 1982 Klaus takes a course of action that saves many witches’ lives; of course he reaps plenty out of it himself--he does nothing without a selfish motive--but there were other ways he could have gone about it. Stefan is smart enough to not mention it, Klaus doesn’t mention it either, and a mutual agreement of silence is formed. Alexander apparently doesn’t know of this agreement.

“That was an intriguing strategy on Klaus’s part,” Alexander says, words rife with implications.

“I said nothing to him. We can make peace work for us as well as war,” Stefan replies.

“You know, Stefan, I chose to ally myself with you from the beginning, because I knew that in time you would have greater influence over Klaus than even I,” Alexander says.

“You overestimate me,” Stefan states.

“He has mellowed,” Alexander says, “and he is much friendlier to the staff.”

“He would just as quickly have killed all those people if it gave him the same benefit.”

“True, but still... it is a great responsibility Stefan.”

“I know.”

  
***

  
“I used to want to be a doctor,” Stefan says wistfully, as Klaus sits opposite him--drinking from a neurosurgeon.

  
“That’s not so crazy; it seems like a nightmare now, but give your body a couple of centuries to dial down the insanity of the urges, and, with the access to blood, it would be the best job in the world,” Klaus tells him.

“It wouldn’t be like I dreamed it would,” Stefan says, sipping distastefully from a mug of pigeon blood, forming a mental note to make a trip to get some deer, or even a rabbit.

“No your dreams would’ve been ridiculous numbers of women dying of childbirth, and children dying of now easily curable ailments.”

“I wanted to live a life, raise kids, and grow old.”

“But then you wouldn’t have the delight of my company,” Klaus says, gleefully beaming.

“True, there’s always a good side.”

“When I find Katerina I’ll torture her for you.”

“How does that differ from the plan you already have?”

“Not much. You can join in if you want.”

  
***

  
“It’s a new millennium, we should celebrate,” Stefan announces, insisting on dragging Klaus to all his favourite places around the world.

“How long before the blood of all the people you’ve killed drowns out your sentimentality?” Klaus quips.

“I know; it’s not your first, and it won’t be your last. But it’s an excuse to party.”

And so they end up spending January 31st 1999 in London.

  
***

  
2008

“It’s conclusive, there is a human doppelganger out there somewhere at this very moment,” Ida says, suppressed exhilaration still clear in her voice.

“Get our people following every lead there is,” Klaus orders, staying oddly detached.

  
“Well, aren’t you going to help?” Klaus asks Stefan, seeing him make no move.

“I’m sure all the trackers you have can handle it Klaus,” he replies.

“Except they haven’t actually seen a doppelganger in the flesh.”

“I have to agree with Stefan,” Cora says, “I would bet anyone could find her before him.”

“Oh, fine, proving that Cora’s an idiot never gets old. But when I win I want you to do a dance with a funny hat,” Stefan tells her.

“When I win, you get to spend a day dressed as a donkey’s bottom,” Cora replies.

  
***

  
2011

There was an irony Klaus was sure Katerina wasn’t aware of. He had almost forgotten her completely, caring little for any further revenge, and then there was Stefan. Stefan hated her in a way he would never hate Klaus, and Klaus just couldn’t tolerate that.

“Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know exactly what you’re up to,” Klaus says.

“I’m just highlighting an issue I feel you and Stefan should deal with. If you leave it to fester, it will turn ugly.”

“The issue here, Katerina, is that the last time someone came between Stefan and me, it resulted with us spending twenty years apart; and that’s a time I don’t plan on repeating,” Klaus says faux demurely.

He swings his hand at Katherine’s neck, decapitating her in one swift blow.

  
***

  
2009

Stefan hovers at the edges of Mystic Falls, forgoing his usual check-in with Zach; it’s best that his family don’t know he’s here. His search has brought him here. He watches, and listens, and waits. It’s not long before he finds out there’s going to be a party and decides it would only be prudent to attend.

  
Stefan stands in a corner, listening intently and mainly staring at the back of heads. He’s on the lookout for dark curls, so he almost misses her. The sharp clink of a beer bottle against a radiator draws his gaze, and he catches her profile just as her hand slides drunkenly around the doorframe. He follows, simultaneously unsure he saw anything, and sure she’s Katherine despite knowing he’s there to find her very human twin.

  
She stumbles towards a car, door opening loosely in her drink clumsy hand, and climbing into the back. Definitely not Katherine. Stefan zooms behind the car with little effort; he is right behind it when it swan-dives into the water. His first thought is to save the doppelganger, so the man’s insistence that he does so hardly matters. It takes some manoeuvring, but Stefan eventually pulls not-Katherine out of the car and water, laying her unconscious form out on the road. She’s alive and breathing.

  
Stefan takes out his cell phone, scrolling to ‘n’ where Klaus’s number lies, and hits call. As it rings, he gazes at her. She looks so innocent, so vulnerable. He feels almost like he’s seventeen again, free of the darkness that he now carries, and thinks this is the girl he once thought Katherine was. The idea of hurting her is suddenly more than he can bear, but bear it he must; he’s not a guy who betrays someone he cares about for the sake of a stranger.

  
“Stefan, any information?” Klaus answers, all business.

Words topple from Stefan’s mouth almost unbidden.

“No, I’m just checking in, there’s nothing here.”

  



End file.
